


A Night Not Unlike This

by jrn_jpg



Series: A Whole New World [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrn_jpg/pseuds/jrn_jpg
Summary: ‘Oh? Is that a challenge?’‘Hmm. More like a promise.’
Relationships: Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley
Series: A Whole New World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	A Night Not Unlike This

**Author's Note:**

> This is a flashback scene of Harry and Charlie's one night stand mentioned in 'Let's Not Be Too Hasty', set two years before that story begins. It's part of that series but can be read alone, completely unnecessary to the LNBTH story but I just had to self-indulge. Not beta read, enjoy xx
> 
> Harry Potter and all related works belong to JK but we don't like her here.

‘ _Congratulations Ginny_!’

The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, all their friends from Hogwarts, the first team of the Holyhead Harpies, and a few reserves all pushed their glasses together in a cheers.

Harry took a sip of his drink and smiled at the sight.

Ginny had just debuted in her first game of the season for the Harpies, and it came as a surprise to no one that the team had won. So Molly and Arthur had invited everyone they could get their hands on, to a party at the Burrow to celebrate the win, and Harry had never seen the place so packed with people.

He was, by now, suffering no doubt at the sheer magnitude of the familial magic embedded into the walls of the Burrow - he suspected it was the reason he always felt so safe and at home whenever he visited - but the house’s ability to shrink and grow to accommodate large fluxes of people was something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to.

There had to have been no less than thirty people sitting comfortably around the living room, a room which usually seemed full with just the nine Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, with their plates of buffet food and drinks of fire whiskey and sparkling elfin wine. In fact, the last time Harry could remember the Burrow being this full, was for Bill and Fleur’s wedding a couple of years ago, but even that had been held outside and the Burrow itself hadn’t needed to stretch quite so much.

Percy had invited along his new girlfriend Audrey and was being mocked mercilessly by George; Bill and Fleur had watched the game and shared one drink with Ginny, before heading back to Shell Cottage with their little bump (Fleur was just three months pregnant and a night of wild drinking that she couldn’t participate in just didn’t seem like it would be as _amusante_ anymore); Charlie had been the most proud, telling everyone who would listen of how he had coached Ginny from as soon as she could sit on a broom, a fact not strictly true but Ginny had been enjoying the boasting attention from her brother too much to correct him.

All in all, it had been a wonderful day. Ginny had won her game, the weather had been dry and warm, the Burrow hadn’t felt like there was a huge gaping hole in the side of it from missing Fred, and everyone involved had got themselves spectacularly wankered.

As the night had wound down at the Burrow, the Harpies had elected to steel Ginny away to one of the new clubs in London to continue their celebration; they’d had a particularly spotty couple of seasons after the loss of their best seeker yet, but with the new addition of Ginny they were hopeful for their first straight cup win with no serious competition in years.

Harry found himself wedged between George and Charlie on one of the more squashy sofas in the living room, watching all of his friends dancing around much too enthusiastically for a Celestina Warbeck track, but it was the only music Mrs Weasley had allowed to play in her home and it would never be said that Gryffindors can’t adapt to a situation. He felt just pleasantly tipsy, which was stupid for the amount he knew he had drunk that afternoon, and he suspected Hermione of having spiked the fire whiskey with a sobering-up potion. It was as much a relief as it was annoying; Harry hadn’t been looking forward to the hangover he was destined to have in the morning.

With a quiet, contented sigh, Harry pushed himself up from the sofa, earning himself a grunt from a half-asleep George as elbows found their ways into ribs and knees into hips, and made his way to the kitchen for a refill.

He stood by the sink, facing the window out into the Weasley’s back garden, sipping his sobering-up-fire-whiskey mixture à la Hermione. If anyone had told him just a year ago, had interrupted his hunt for horcruxes and said “ _give it a year, mate, you’ll be home, safe, and dry in the Burrow, surrounded by your loved ones, and the war will be over. Voldemort will be dead, and a few on your side too, but you’ll grieve and remember, and learn to move on._ ” he’d have kissed them and laughed in their face.

If they had told him that he and Ginny would never learn to make it past the differences the war made in them, he’d have kissed them for that, too. He’d known as soon as he, Ron and Hermione had landed into the Forest of Dean that they had long gone past a point of no return for lack of romance in their relationship. He would always love her, and he knew that she loved him, but their relationship had evolved into one of deep gratitude that they had both survived through the worst of it. Being with Ginny now would have been like being with Hermione: like being with a sister.

Thankfully, Ginny had felt the exact same way, and both of them had stumbled over the same words to express that they now wanted different - but the same - things. Ron and Hermione, too, had understood, though their own life and death experiences had only driven them into acting on the love that they had both denied until that point. With a chucked to himself, Harry remembered one of the better moments of the battle; Ron wanting to save the house elves and Hermione, at last, launching herself into his arms. ‘ _Now or never_ ’ indeed.

It had taken Mrs Weasley a little longer to come to terms with the fact that her all-but-adopted son Harry was no longer going to become an official member of the family by marrying Ginny, until Ron and, surprisingly, Percy, had reminded her that Harry had been a part of their family ever since Ron had sat in Harry’s compartment on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven. There had been tears and hugs and laughter, but it had all turned out okay in the end.

It had helped a lot when Ginny had brought home Dominic, a beater who played with the old Gryffindor keeper, Oliver Wood, on Puddlemere United’s team, and introduced him as her new boyfriend. Out of everyone, he had made firm friends of Harry the fastest.

Still, it had only highlighted how alone Harry now was, with all of his friends and family coupling up around him. It felt like he would be forever destined to be seen by everyone as Harry “Saviour” Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, rather than just Harry.

‘Bored already?’

Harry spun around at the interruption of his thoughts, but smiled upon seeing who it was. Charlie had followed him into the kitchen.

‘Not bored, just thinking through it all.’

Charlie hummed in agreement, though Harry hadn’t specified what “it all” was, before nodding to the fire whiskey Harry held in his hand. ‘You know Hermione’s spiked it with a sobering-up potion, right?’

‘Hah. Yes. I keep drinking more in an attempt to not have quite so bad a hangover in the morning.’

‘I might join you there, then. Pour me a glass?’

Harry did so, and met Charlie’s eye as he poured the drink in. There was something in his eyes that Harry thought he recognised, but was unfamiliar on Charlie’s face. But it couldn’t be, he hardly knew Charlie, really. Not like he knew Ron or George and had been friends with them for years. And _definitely_ not like he’d known Ginny. So he shook it off and tried not to overthink, with the intensity of Charlie’s eyes making it increasingly more difficult.

‘So. still no one to bring along to these things?’

‘Still no one,’ Harry agreed, taking a sip of his drink and feeling his head get just that little bit clearer.

‘Good.’

‘Although you’re not one to talk, but I guess we should be thankful you haven’t brought a dragon home to meet the parents.’ Charlie’s comment took a few more moments to sink in for Harry, but once it did? What could he mean by “good”?

‘Why would I bring home a dragon, when there’s perfectly good prospects here already?’

Harry felt his cheeks flush; he looked away from Charlie to hide it. What the hell was he blushing for? ‘That’s true, I bet you get all the girls… Romania _and_ here.’

Charlie chuckled softly, as if he knew something that Harry didn’t. ‘Not quite. Not girls.’

Ah. There it was.

There was that crucial detail.

His eyes seemed to burn into Harry’s, that same dangerous expression that had scared Harry earlier. Was that what was happening then? Was Charlie… _flirting_ with him?

No way, as if this adonis of a dragon tamer would bother flirting with his littlest brother’s best friend. Charlie just pitied him, that’s all. Must be.

‘Right. Just the dragons then?’ Maybe a bit of humour would stop Harry from feeling so awkward and inadequate for Charlie.

‘No, Harry. Not dragons, either.’

Harry looked up at Charlie once more. The dangerous look was still there, but this time he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t deny himself from thinking it anymore. He might’ve been one of the more oblivious people in life, a fact that Ron and Hermione loved to remind him of, but even Harry couldn’t deny what Charlie was after anymore.

And it _thrilled_ him.

Harry’s eyes flicked down to Charlie’s lips. He couldn’t help but wonder, marvelling at them. Were they as soft as they looked? Would they dominate his own mouth? Take control of him and make him putty in Charlie’s arms? _Did Harry want them to_?

Harry barely had time to realise he’d been staring before he got the answer to all of his questions. Charlie lent down to close the gap between them, his lips gently brushed against his. They really were as soft as they’d looked.

Rough and calloused hands came up to cup his cheeks, the textures contrasting so spectacularly against the softness of the lips that the effect was quite arresting. Harry’s mind was blank. There was nothing in the world worth thinking of other than Charlie and what he was doing to Harry with his lips and hands. Harry never wanted to stop.

Charlie pulled away slowly, his hands still pressed against Harry’s cheeks. Harry felt like that one point of contact was all that was keeping him from collapsing onto the floor in a pile of goo.

Harry couldn’t understand it. Yes, he knew he fancied men just as much as women, that particular fact had made itself known when Ron had brought up just how many times Harry had talked about Cedric Diggory in fourth year, and Oliver Wood even after he had graduated. It was a point Dominic loved to tease him on.

But Charlie?

Harry wasn’t ignorant enough to not have noticed how spectacularly attractive he was, he wasn’t _that_ blind, thankyouverymuch. It was a lot of dragonhide leather and burns up his arms and a dragontooth earring that matched Bill’s, and Harry had often felt like a blushing schoolgirl when Charlie had paid him any attention.

So to have him _snogging_ Harry, was almost too much to cope with.

Charlie smiled softly at him. ‘Alright there, Potter?’

The words were enough to convince Harry that this, truly, wasn’t some figment of his imagination. _Brilliant_. He brought his hands up to hold onto Charlies and grinned up at him. ‘You’ll have to do better than that to fluster me, Weasley.’

‘Oh? Is that a challenge?’

‘Hmm. More like a promise.’

Charlie lent down to press his lips to Harry’s once more, no complaints there, but Harry couldn’t help the tiny part of his mind that wondered how the hell they’d gone this long without one of the hundreds of people in this house interrup-

‘Oh gods. Harry. _Charlie ._ What the fuck, guys.’

They broke apart. _Speak of the devils_. But Charlie made no move to let Harry move away from him, instead moving his arms down to snake around Harry's waist and draw him up even closer to him. Harry flushed at the hardness he could now feel pressed up against his hip, but Charlie seemed entirely unaffected in the knowledge that Harry knew just how aroused he had made him.

Ron was staring at the pair of them with what could only be described as a look of total exasperation on his face; as if he knew and expected this to happen, and had already resigned himself to Harry and Charlie being a _thing_. How, Harry had no idea. He was still struggling to come to terms with it all himself, and he was one half of the involved party!

‘Can a guy not even come into his own kitchen without seeing his best friend getting with his brother?’

Charlie grinned at him. ‘Obviously not, Ronniekins.’

‘Great.’ Ron rolled his eyes. ‘Can you at least not tell me any details at all? And use industrial strength silencing charms?’

Harry blushed, again, at the insinuation, but it just made Charlie’s grin wider. With one of those huge hands squeezing at Harry’s hip, Charlie went to steer them both upstairs.

‘Will do, Ronnie. Don’t bother waiting up.’

They had used industrial strength silencing charms - Harry had learnt them during his very first weeks of Auror training that summer - and Merlin only knows how much they had needed them.


End file.
